Anywhere But Here
by hopeintheproles
Summary: It's wrong, so wrong on so many levels. I can't understand how it all started. We are the least compatible people. But things feel so right it should be wrong. GregJan.


Disclaimer: Only saying this once. Don't own anything.

I'm not depressed. No, there's a difference between depressed people and myself. I just…..I just know, that thing's are always different with me. I don't carry a sad look on my face; it's unreadable if you will. It's a bored sort of look. But I'm doing so much more than that. I observe, and I note. Weaknesses, cravings, goals, dreams, aspirations. I see it all. Let's start with Marcia shall we?

Mmm, yes she's sweet and "perfect". But there's someone else in there, at heart Marcia will always be nice, that's the tough thing about Marcia. People can hate her because they think she is pretending to be nice and perfect. But she really is nice, with a good heart and good intention. But she's scared a lot. Scared that if she isn't perfect anymore, she won't get the same attention, the same love. It's ok, fear and abandonment is something that rules over our self confidence. Because no matter who you are, you always need someone.

I'm 14. I'm not stupid, or hormonally challenged. I get lonely, it's common. But I face the facts, I won't be noticed for a long time, and once I am, I won't be anywhere near the Brady's. I want to get away. From them, from this all. I'm a hopeless case, unable to be savedby anyone. Nah, I gotta save myself. From my family. It's very common. Family often drive each other crazy, I'm not going crazy. I'm just not going anywhere.

And that's the problem.

So here I am, it's a sunny Saturday. And here we all are, in the backyard. Cindy and Bobby, playing on the swings. Greg and Peter are playing football. And Marcia is sitting next to me, chatting away about some date she has tonight. I stare straight ahead, occasionally I nod, say "I know" when appropriate and "cool" when it's not. I couldn't possibly care less about what she's saying, it probably wouldn't interest me anyway. I'm just doing myself a favor.

The only thing that keeps me going, is knowing that one day I'll be away from them all. That I can go far away, away from the name Brady. Where Brady, is a normal name and doesn't remind people of Marcia. Someplace where I don't exist. Anywhere but here.

But, that day is far far away. And I have to make do with what I have now. It isn't much. But I can build on it. Make myself an interesting person. Build up on character.

I go upstairs, Marcia will probably keep talking. Hey, maybe someone will see her talking to no one, claim she's crazy, and she will no longer be the ray of light. O well, a girl can dream.

I head into my room. Nothing's changed. One of these days, I'm going to tear this room to shreds. Unorganize every stupid organized thing and throw things across the room. But not today. Today I go over and sit by the bed. I get bored and I walk over to the stretch mirror. I stare at my reflection.

I'm not a bad looking girl, I just don't want the attention. I wear baggy boy clothes to cover up my girlish figure. Yeah, that's right I have a girlish figure. But with my clothes I'm as curvy as a pole. I've got normal breasts. 36 A. But the clothes cover those as well. I've never liked boobs, they make boys lose their train of thought. We make them lose reality. We dress in skanky clothes in hope for attention and love, but all we attract is the pimps and ballers. I'm waiting, until someone likes me for me. Then I can show them me, and be loved even more for being myself.

I sound like a kid.

And I hate that. Because all my life, I've acted like a baby. I've changed, I can see reality. I know what really happens, why we are the way we are. I want people to see the things about me, they never would have thought. That I can sing, that I can go all day having a decent conversation without complaining about Marcia. It might take a while but I think they'll get it with time. I have faith.

"Jan, sweetie! It's dinner!" Mom calls ever so lovingly. I don't know how I could have been so stupid as a kid. Thinking Marcia and Cindy were the only daughters loved. Mom is perfect. She is elegant. And she loves us all. I'm lucky. I really am.

I walk downstairs. Apparently the last one to the table. I sit down and smile at everyone. The table continues in it's small talk. I tune them all out, and I look at their faces. I like to look at there faces when they talk about something they love, or hate. Or when they talk with passion. I like to see it when they laugh, they all have different expressions. And it makes me smile. A real smile. Not a forced one that lets parents pretend you're ok. And it feels good.

Therapists should recommend it.

It's healthy, and it does a person good.

But I'm not like everyone else.

End Chapter 1

A/N: Hey this is Alexa, let me know what you think and if I should continue.


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